


Truth Be Told

by silverneko9lives0



Series: Sanzeuh Kumathelh [11]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rapunzel Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-07 15:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: After the death of his wife, Thranduil kept his son sequestered in his realm in hopes of protecting him. While a brave warrior, Legolas is actually very ignorant of the world and has adopted his father’s view on a lot of things, such as Thranduil’s prejudice against Dwarves. But on a quest he shouldn’t have gone on, Legolas realizes he got into a little more than he should have.





	1. Chapter 1

~2001, Third Age~

The King of the Greenwood was not the sort to seem in any sort of way afraid. Or worried. He maintained an exterior of superiority and ice. He portrayed everything that Mortals linked to the Elves. Wise, fair, and graceful.

Right now, though, the queen screamed shrilly as she bore through labor pains. He’d been locked out by her handmaidens and midwives.

Gandalf, though, knew the king better than most. He approached him and set a hand on the Elf’s shoulder. Thranduil jerked, hand to his sword.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

Gandalf scowled. “You know, most greet me more politely.”

“Forgive me if I seem less than what you deem polite,” Thranduil spat. “If you haven’t noticed, my wife is in labor and it’s been a difficult pregnancy already.”

“Caladhiel is strong,” Gandalf reminded him, sitting beside him. “You asked me to come.”

“I had expected you a week ago, Wizard.”

Gandalf scoffed, lighting a pipe. “A wizard is _never_ late. Nor is he early. He arrives _precisely_ when he means to. Regardless of who needs his services. You wanted me here for the birth of your child. I am here and the child will be born soon enough.”

Thranduil massaged his forehead. He thought he’d be used to Gandalf’s brand of logic and reasoning. As it was, the Grey Pilgrim ever infuriated him.

Thranduil stood and went to fill a goblet full of wine. “And if you’re wrong?” he asked. “What if it’s too much for her? And she and the baby both die?”

“You can’t think that way, Thranduil. You are not like Dwarves or Men where everything is a roll of the dice.”

“Everything _is_ a roll of dice. Being immortal doesn’t change that,” he said.

“I thought you were excited to be a father.”

“I am,” Thranduil assured him. He was very excited to be a father. “But even so…I’m afraid of what happens next.”

Gandalf hummed. “Everyone is,” he said. “That’s what makes life so exciting.”

Caladhiel screamed once more. Then silence. Thranduil stared at the door, rooted.

The wails of a baby were heard, and a handmaiden exited the room, head bowed. Thranduil strode inside and Gandalf followed leisurely.

The queen smiled at him, holding a naked child in her arms. Skin red and still covered in amniotic fluids.  The child’s head was bald save for a few wispy blond hairs. Thranduil sat beside her.

“All is well?” he asked.

Caladhiel smiled weakly. “Yes,” she whispered.

The baby wiggled, moving tiny fingers and turning his pointed ear toward the voice. With the hand not cradling the baby to her chest, she reached for Thranduil.

“We have a son, Thranduil,” she said. “I’m so tired, _Melleth nin_. I just want to sleep.”

“Then sleep,” Thranduil said, kissing her forehead, wiping away a few beads of sweat. “Rest.”

A midwife took the babe from Caladhiel and showed the handmaidens how to clean and swaddle him. The women cooed and awed at the infant, who did not seem to take being separated from his mother so soon that nicely. She approached the king and curtsied before offering the child to him.

Thranduil took his son into his arms. He was not the sort to weep. Not the sort to show emotion. Only Caladhiel had ever been privy to witness his less…masculine side. Still, now as he held his firstborn…

He couldn’t seem to maintain his semblance of control.

Gandalf squeezed his shoulder again. “You wanted me to offer a sooth saying for the lad?”

Thranduil swallowed, wiping his eyes as dry as he could manage. “Yes,” he said thickly. Gandalf gently relieved Thranduil of the child and waved his hand over the tiny body.

“A summer child,” he said. “A great warrior. A hero of the Free Peoples. And I sense a bond that has not yet formed. He is half of a whole.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mahal,” Gandalf said. The word was deep, almost guttural. “His heart is bound already to a Dwarf.”

Thranduil’s gaze grew dark. Dwarves?

“No.”

“Thranduil, the Dwarves are unique. Your son has been chosen by the Valar to fall in love with one. It happens. There is nothing wrong with that. They may be mortal, but I assure you, whoever the Dwarf that will be for your son is, they will love him far more than you know. There are worse fates.”

Thranduil sighed. The blasted business with the Silmarils…If he ever had a good relationship with Dwarves once, he did not remember it.

“It may be exactly what is needed to bridge your people and the Dwarves together again. You were allies once.”

“Yes. Once. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

“You say that now, but your own hate is passed on from parent to child for generations. The silmarils are gone. Once upon a time the Elves and the Dwarves were great allies. Perhaps this is what is needed to mend the bond.”

“Can you sense at least what line the Dwarf is from?” Thranduil asked. “Can you do that or is that beyond your capabilities?”

The babe began to fuss, so Gandalf returned him to a midwife, who took to calming him. “It could be any of them, but I can say that the Dwarf is a descendant of a direct line. He or she will be, at least, a high noble, if not a monarch.”

Thranduil groaned. That didn’t help much. He could live with it being a royal, but to be frank…

“Another Elf would be better,” he growled again.

Gandalf shot him an unimpressed glare. “Whatever hate you hold, Thranduil, you must let go for your son. Whoever the Dwarf is, your child will know a love deeper than most. Rarely does such a gift transcend outside the race of Dwarves. Some even say…well,” Gandalf grinned secretively. “You’re probably not ready to hear that.”

Thranduil sighed. He’d need another drink.

“So,” he said, filling his wine glass again. “A child of summer. A hero of the Free Peoples. And a warrior. Those are things I can live with.”

He looked around, catching sight of a tree in full summer bloom. Its leaves were deep green and soft to behold. He turned back to the babe now resting once more in the crook of Caladhiel’s arms.

“And what shall the prince be named?” Gandalf asked.

Thranduil exhaled. “Legolas. The green leaf.” He turned to Gandalf. “A prince of the woodland realm.”

Gandalf bowed his head. “Long may he live,” he said respectfully.

~3000 Third Age~

~1000 Years later~

Legolas didn’t venture out of the Greenwood often.  He refused, like many of his people, to call it Mirkwood. True, there were still areas that had been diseased, but the Elven kingdom had regained some of its health over the last fifty years.

When he did leave, if ever, it was mainly to visit Tauriel and her family. She was with child. How she managed that without breaking in half, well, Legolas decided he didn’t want to really know.

He was happy for her, though, and so was Thranduil, even if he wasn’t as keen on admitting it. Thranduil wasn’t much for showing emotion. Sometimes it…

Well, to be frank, it hurt to think about. Thranduil had been distant and closed off since Legolas’ mother passed away. Legolas knew he missed her. His father was emotionally distant, but he knew, deep down, he showed he cared in his own way.

The king loved children, too. The last time he had seemed so animated was when a group of Dwarflings and a hobbit child ventured into the forest looking for magic that would give them immortality. Except they had the idea that immortality would keep them from growing up or maturing.

It was adorable.

They weren’t so cute anymore. The twins were still immature, of course, and Fami had accepted his fate as heir of his uncle. Even Sira wasn’t so cute anymore but from his interactions with the group, she was considered quite a beauty among Dwarves. Something she inherited from her…

What was the word?

Right.

Bearer.

Like mother, but more hermaphroditic.

Of course, the Dwarves would likely hew in half any who dared say such a thing to their face. Gender and sexual identity was more fluid among them.

Legolas admitted only to those five that he thought it more freeing in a way.

“It can be,” Frodo said. “But I suppose, being raised by them, I never thought of it in that way. Bilbo said that Hobbits took more after Men and Elves when it came to gender politics.”

“Perhaps the Dwarves could open their doors to Men and Elves and Hobbits who are more inclined to their own way of thinking,” Legolas said.

“I brought that up once,” Fami admitted. “Amad told me it wasn’t that simple. It’d be hard to tell if one was genuinely telling the truth about their inclination or lying to get in so to cause damage to our culture and impose their own ideas of what consists of ‘normal.’ I’d likely end up dealing with it,” he said, scowling. “The king is too old, and Uncle Fili has his own issues. It’d fall to me as next in line.”

Frodo grinned. “Would you dare say it to their face?”

Fami met his grin with a smirk. “You know what? I would. I’m faster than them. Now if I were to say it to Adad, then I’d be worried. He’s still quick on his feet and not afraid to wallop me.”

He did enjoy spending time with the younger generation of Dwarves that seemed more open to building bridges rather than walls as their elders were.

 _When had I seen them last?_ He thought.

It’d been too long. Of that, Legolas was certain.

He heard a ghastly, croaking scream. It sent chills up his spine. Legolas raced toward it, weapons at the ready. The creature was bound to a tree, making a fuss as it attempted to break free. By the fire was a grey cloaked figure.

“Gandalf,” Legolas sighed. “Still like sneaking up on others, do you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the wizard said with a sigh. “Rather hard to be sneaking up on anyone with this fellow bellowing about.”

“Free us!” it demanded, still tugging on the rope. “Have pity and mercy on us! _Gollum, Gollum_.”

“What exactly is it?”

“My best guess?”

“Is usually better than most,” Legolas said.

Gandalf exhaled. “It used to be a Hobbit.” Legolas looked at the creature again. There was no way it could’ve been a Hobbit once upon a time. “Whatever it is now, it’s not that anymore. For now, we call him Gollum.”

“And you brought him here?”

“Dark forces are after him. He has knowledge that we need and that the enemy wants. You will help me petition your father’s help, won’t you?”

Legolas hesitated, unwilling to look away from the creature.

As though sensing his hesitation, Gandalf continued: “The fate of the world may depend on what happens to this creature.”

Legolas sighed. “All right. Yes, I’ll help, but I really hope you’re wrong. It’d be better to just put it out of its misery.”

“Perhaps? But I fear he still has a part to play in what is to come.”

Legolas groaned. “Wonderful.”

* * *

 

*Caladhiel = Elfish variant of Hellen(a)/Ellen(a), <http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/elvish/girlnames.html>


	2. ON HIATUS

Hey guys!

First of all, thanks to everyone who's been reading. I hope you'll stay with me for a while longer.

I got a new job and while I am trying to get a page in a day, that's not been the case for all the stories I'm working on. So I decided to go back to a one at a time method. For the foreseeable future, I'll be working on my Drarry story, Gold and Silver Cracks. 

I'm not abandoning any of my current works in progress. When I get back to this one, I'll delete this message and upload the next chapter. 

Thank you, everyone, for being such great readers and for being so patient with me.

With much love,

Silver.


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